Hours
by PhoenixLoveStory
Summary: Alexa is an orphan who remembers almost nothing of her childhood. She meets the Doctor at age 18, on a hot Texas day. She pretty much saves him, but can he save her? With mysterious gifts, and an abundance of mysteries popping up, can he solve the greatest mystery - Alexa - before it's too late?


**Hours**

The First Hour

Texas sucks.

Like really.

Why the h-e-double hockey-sticks is it okay for it to be 108F degrees?

Even in short shorts and my loose union jack tank top, I was sweating like a pig in the mud. The groceries cradled in my arms were constantly threatening to topple out of my grasp.

_I need a car,_ I mentally added on to my long to-do list.

At least I have an apartment. It took me three months of living in cheap hotels and working double shifts to save up the money for my first month's rent, and even longer for the down payment. Eighteen year old orphans are shown no mercy, and I am no exception.

I wasn't born an orphan (obviously) and – honestly – I don't remember most of my childhood. The people back at the home always said it was probably a good thing. I was found on a stormy night in August, in the middle of a forest. Three broken bones, a minor concussion, and some pretty heavy amnesia. Heavy as in, I couldn't even remember my full name. The only thing they could get out of me was "Alexa". They figured it was my name, and that's what I've always gone with. That was when I was ten. Obviously, I never got my memory back.

I pull myself out of my thoughts to dig the keys out of my pocket. That's when I hear the odd sound. It was like metal grating on metal, like nails on a chalk board, it was an odd, wheezing noise. I whirled around to see something flying right at me.

I ducked, only for it to disappear moments before impact.

"The hell?" I mumble.

I look around and see the blue object – a box looking thing – smoking in the corner of the parking lot by the bins. I'm staring at it for obvious reasons (a flying blue box almost killed me and now it's about to blow up in the corner of my parking lot, for God's sake!), only to see a man step out and collapse.

"Holy crap!"

I set my groceries down and run down the stairs to him.

"Hey! Hey! Are you okay?" I say, freaking out. I turn the odd man over. He's _not_ bad looking. He has shaggy brown hair and a _very_, uhm, _strong_ jaw line.

"Hey, hey. Wake up. Can't have anyone dying in front of my apartment. That would just freak me out for months to come. Wake up, weird box man," I mumble.

The box man mumbled something.

"I'm sorry. What?" I ask.

"Fish…" he mumbles.

"Fish? What about fish?" I question.

"Custard," he mumbles.

"What is custard?"

"Fish fingers…" he mumbles.

"Fish fingers… fish sticks! Do you want fish sticks! I think I have some!" I tell him, trying to see if he'll come to.

"And custard…" he mumbles again.

"What _is_ custard?" I ask him.

He seems to wake up a bit, only to glare at me.

"You don't know what custard is?" he spouts.

I shake my head vigorously.

* * *

After dragging the mystery man up to my apartment (probably pretty stupid, but it's not like I really had anything to lose), I dug around in my freezer for fish fingers.

I pop them in the oven and go back to the living room where the box man is passed out on my couch.

I stare at him for a good three minutes until he wakes up with a jolt.

"What! What? Where am I? Who are you? Did you – ah! Did you kidnap me? I've been told that I'm not a very good hostage!" he exclaims.

I look at him for a beat then reply, "You're in my apartment. My name is Alexa. Your blue box thingy almost crushed me. You fell out of it, unconscious. I didn't kidnap you. Who are you?"

"Oh… oh yes! I was crashing! Sorry about the box, by the way. I'm the Doctor," he replies, sticking out his hand for me to shake.

Before I have a chance to shake it, he jumps on the couch. "Is that fish fingers I smell? Do you have any custard?" Once again, before I can reply, he takes off to the kitchen.

"You mentioned something about 'fish fingers and custard' while you were unconscious. I figured fish sticks were close enough. I don't have any custard though… is lemon pudding close enough?" I said.

"You don't have… any… custard? Who has fish fingers and no custard? You are such an American!" he says.

"So?!" I reply.

"I figured since you were wearing a shirt with the British flag that you would be a little bit better to deal with but apparently not!" he exclaims.

"Calm down now. I love lots of British things and such. That's why I have a union jack shirt. Sorry I don't know everything about the food. Do all British people like fish sticks and pudding?" I ask.

"Fish fingers and _**custard**_!" I thought he was going to slap me. He continues, "And I'm way worse than British," he smirks. "When will they be ready?"

"Pretty soon. What do you mean 'way worse than British'?" I question.

"I mean, I'm way worse than just British," he says matter-of-factly.

I just shrug.

* * *

Once again, I find myself in front of the box.

"So, how does a box fly? And what's a –" I lean in closer, "'police public call box' anyway?" I ask.

"It's not really a box. A police box is just a police box-y thing-y from 1963-ish London. _My_ police box is a time machine!" he exclaims.

I stare at him. "Uh huh. Sure it is. Let me guess. You're also an alien."

He looks at me, sober faced. "You're a quick learner!"

"What? No! That was sarcasm. There's no way!" I yell.

"Yes way. Alien, that's me," he says.

"I don't believe you," I say backing away.

He steps towards me again. "My TARDIS honed in on you for a reason. Why? What's so special about you? Young, eighteen-ish from what I've gathered, no family photos, lives alone. Who are you?"

"You're a quick learner, alien freak."

"Who are you?" he asks again.

"I already told you what I know. My name is Alexa. That's it. I'm an orphan. A nobody. I was abandoned in a forest in the middle of a storm to die. I'm _no one_. Get back in your box, so I can call crazy house you escaped from," I say.

He looks at me for a few moments. "I really am an alien, Alexa. I'm a freak from another planet. I'm a mad man with a flying blue box, and I know for a fact that you have to be _someone_. Would you – well, you wouldn't happen to like traveling would you?" he asks.

"Way to change the subject! I've never traveled. Never had the money, or resources. I've always wanted to see faraway places. It'll never happen though," I say, staring at my feet.

"You, me. Blue box. Let's go," he says.

"Excuse me?"

"It's not just a time machine! It's also a spaceship. I can take you anywhere in time and/or space. Whaddya say?" He holds his hand out to me.

"You're crazy. You think you're an alien! I – I don't believe any of this!" I back up more.

He reaches out to me grabbing my hands. "Let me go!" I cry out.

"Hey, hey. Feel this." He takes both of my hands and put them on his chest. On the left side, I feel his heart – no surprise there – but, on the right, I feel something else. "What?" I mumble.

I remove my hands and place my ear there instead. "You have two heartbeats. That's impossible."

"No it's not. Not if you have two hearts. My name is the Doctor. I'm an alien from the planet Gallifrey. I'm a time lord, time lords have two hearts. That's my spaceship. I'm over a thousand years old and I like to travel. Do you wanna come?"

"Wha- what?"

"Just step in. If you're not sure then, you can just leave. I'll take my TARDIS and fly away, and I'll never interfere again. If you do want to stay, then we can gallivant about space and time and such. Are you coming?" he says. He walks towards the blue box, opening it. He holds his hand out to me.

I take it and step inside. "Its…. Its…. The outside…. But… the inside… it's smaller on the outside!"

He gives me an odd look, "Some people just don't know how to deal with it."

"What?"

"Nothing. How do you like it?" he asks.

I look around, taking in the two levels. In front of me is a staircase leading to another level where there's a control center looking things and more stairs. Below is a engine-type-thing. The room is brightly lit, with a warm orange tone.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen…" I reply.

"Are you coming?" he asks, walking up to the control level.

"I… I… yeah. Yeah, I am."

He grins.

If only I could have warned myself. I know exactly what I would have said: **You're in for one hell of a ride. Freaking Geronimo!**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Heya Whovians! Thanks for reading the first chapter of "Hours". I've done this un-beta-ed (as usual) but – seeing as I've put a lot of work into actually plotting this one – I am in the market for a beta. So if you're interested….

Anywho, thank you so much for reading! Feel free to review. They make me incredibly happy!

**Another Author's Note:**** Upon rereading this, it actually really sucked. This is a little rushed, but I'm definitely slowing down the next one. Try to stick with me guys! Thanks :D**


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